


making you happy

by lostalongtthewayy



Series: whatever it takes [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Fluff, Miscommunication, Sailing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:23:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6984907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostalongtthewayy/pseuds/lostalongtthewayy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt ;; CS + miscommunication. the one in which Emma believes she's screwed up royally only to realize maybe that wasn't exactly the case. Fluffy CS oneshot!  ((T for a wee of language and smuff-y kisses near the end))</p>
            </blockquote>





	making you happy

_**making you happy** _

_prompt ;; CS + miscommunication + Emma's pout + reassuring Killian_

* * *

Killian loves her all right, more than anything and everyone in this world and yet he is first to admit she’s the bloodiest most stubborn person he’s known.

She’s shutting him out a little, he can tell, and while a part of him knows better than to push her, another one can’t help but want to help, knowing her heart is feeling quite uneasy right now.

He looks at her from across the room, hands fidgeting in her lap. She’s only been back from work a few minutes and Killian’s already realized her mood hasn’t improved much from this morning.

He sighs slightly, sitting up on their bed, and setting down the book he was reading. “You pout when you are sad love, you know?” He says then eventually, breaking the eerie silence that had somehow settled in the room.

Emma turns to him; she looks at him as if he’s crazy. “No, I don’t,”

Killian nods knowingly; yeah, she’s just so bloody stubborn, no one he’s ever known even compares to her level of stubbornness. It makes him want to roll his eyes but he doesn’t —mostly because like he said, Emma pouts when she’s sad, and for the last day, she’s been doing just that, pout.

“Aye, you do,” Killian tells her back anyway. “I know you, Emma,” he says then, and the particular moniker gets him her undivided attention.

It’s not every day that Killian calls her Emma.

It makes her purse her lips looking at him, trying to decipher if he could possibly be right and truly know something was wrong with her.

“Is there something I can do, love?”

Emma shakes her head —more so out of instinct and draws herself away from him a little more. She hates that, being like this still sometimes, but she doesn’t especially feel in the sharing mood right now. “I’m not sad,” she insists, although at this point she knows it’ll do her very little. She’s lying and they both know it by now.

Killian sighs deeply and shakes his head. “Ah sure,”

“Killian.” She’s using that warning tone she does sometimes; the one that almost always works, but not today.

Killian gets up from the bed, and walks to her, trying to ignore the way she recoils and moves back when he tries to reach for her hand. He stops moving himself then, and allows a couple feet of space between them. “This morning when you awoke, then later after breakfast, then on your way out —and now that I see you once more, Swan, you are pouting, you’re sad,” he tells her, rather seriously and borderline concerned this time.

Emma is watching him from her spot in their room; the one they have been sharing for almost half a year now. They’ve gone through everything together, and now things seem mostly settled. They are happy, she thinks, but when has that ever stop the bad things from happening?

And of course that’s just Emma letting her pessimistic side win over, but today just hasn’t been the greatest day, and she’s sulking all right?

“I need to go check on Henry —see if he made it to Regina’s okay,”

It is a bloody excuse and they both know it. Killian watches her steadily for all of a minute before nodding. “Okay…” He says, and just like that, she leaves the room.

Killian stays behind; he’s feeling frustrated, not a doubt of that, but at the same time he knows better than to go after her right now.

He talks, she walks away, —it still happens from time to time. He knows the best thing he can do now is wait until she’s ready to talk to him.

And it isn’t like Killian needs to know everything that crosses her mind, but the things that make her uneasy, he definitely does. It is his job after all to make her happy, and he can’t do just that, if she insists in keeping from him these things that make her sad.

So Killian gives her her space right now, and stays behind in their bedroom. He lays on his back on the bed, focusing his eyes out the window. The blinds are up, and outside the day is looking quite beautiful. Clear blue skies and not a single cloud of rain. It relaxes him, ever so slightly but it does.

He’s started to drift off to sleep when he feels Emma walking back into the room. It hasn’t been too long, a few minutes at most since she went downstairs. Killian opens his eyes properly, and watches her as she stands by the door. “So…” He starts, sitting up on the bed once more; he rests his back against the headboard and just watches her. “What’s the story, love?”

Her eyes are misty already and she can barely understand it herself. She’s not expecting him to even try to understand her, and yet here he is, patient as ever and it swells her heart with love, but it also breaks it. “Killian,” Emma says then, her voice a whisper as she finally moves into the room. Her steps are hurried; she suddenly feels that need to be close to him, and the distance she has been keeping all day from him killing her rapidly now.

“Aye, Swan,” he says back, attempting to move in hopes to meet her half way, but instead almost failing backwards on the bed when Emma flings herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly about him.

Killian’s surprised, but doesn’t hesitate two seconds before wrapping his own arms around her warmth. She is still worrying him though. “Ah there, love,” he says sweetly; his hand stroking the length of her back all the way up to the back of her neck. “You’re worrying me lass, are you all right?”

Emma nods against his hold, but doesn’t dare speak quite yet. She’s sorry, she’s so sorry for shutting him out, but she’s also just so embarrassed to tell him what’s wrong, because even when it made her upset all day, deep down inside she knows it’s just so silly.

“You are gonna think I’m stupid,”

Killian doesn’t even reply to that, but he does use his hand to draw Emma from him slightly. He’s looking at her ever so seriously when their eyes meet. “No, I won’t…” He says simply.

Killian’s hand is on her waist now, helping her set properly on the bed by him. Emma takes charge then though, and instead sets on his lap, straddling him. They are close, their faces mere inches apart, and she lifts her hands cupping his scruffy face.

Emma holds his stare for a little while longer, enough to finish gathering the courage to just freaking talk to him. It makes her mad at herself, but in the end, she sighs and feels as ready as she’ll ever be.

Killian uses his own hand to take hers from his face and bring it to his lips. He kisses her palm and closes his eyes just breathing her in.

It undoes Emma, and she closes her eyes as well. She intertwines their fingers, bringing their joined hands down to her lap. His eyes open first, and hers follow suit only a moment later. She lets out a long breath and then begins, “I don’t know when your birthday is…”

“Um?” Of all things Killian thought she was going to tell him, these weren’t even on his list of possibilities. “What did you just say?”

Emma’s eyes widen at his question, and she just looks at him, challenge in her features all of a sudden. He heard her, so she raises her eyebrows before repeating herself. “Your birthday. The day you were born,” she tells him exasperatedly, but the pretence falls quickly and she sighs. “You are the love of my life, Killian, and I don’t even know what freaking day of the year should I buy you a cupcake and sing you happy birthday,” her tone is almost angry, but they both know that isn’t exactly how she’s feeling.

She is sad.

“Is this why…?” Killian starts tentatively after a moment.

Emma huffs at the question, untangling their hands and making hers into a fist. Her face shifts and hangs, and for some stupid reason she starts feeling the freaking hot tears filling her eyes. Damn right this is why she’s been pouting her way through today.

She woke up this morning next to Killian like she had for the last few months, and it’d been blissful. She’d moved close to his side, snuggle next to him as close as she could, felt him wake up and react to her touches to touches of his own to her own skin. Kisses to her bare back and neck that made her almost black out right then and there. But then, then her eyes had caught a glimpse of that bloody calendar and her own handwriting had given her pause.

Henry’s birthday was in seven months exactly, her mom’s in a little less than two, her dad’s in six months, hers wasn’t for another nine or so, little Neal’s birthday wasn’t until July; Emma even knew Regina’s was in a month, and Archie’s in December, but… Killian’s…she just did not know.

And the truth is, Emma felt far too embarrassed to even ask him. So instead, she’d sulked and been mad at herself pretty much all day.

It is stupid, she knows this, but she can’t help herself right now.

“Emma,” Killian says her name so softly and lovingly, but it doesn’t do much to make Emma feel any better.

Instead, she shakes her head at that. “No, don’t, I don’t want you Emma-ing me right now, I’m stupid, I know that.” She says and at that Killian can’t help actually rolling his eyes.

This woman.

“And anyway,” Emma starts after a beat; she’s shaking her head, and looking at him with a frown on her face. “Do you even know?”

“The day I was born?” Killian asks her back, his right brow rising expectantly at her answer. And it truly is not until Emma hears him asking that question back, that she realizes how stupid the question in itself is. She groans in exasperation at herself before raising her hands to her face, and covering her eyes. Of course he knew, he’s old, she knows, but the reckoning of birth dates certainly older, much older than him.

“I’m sorry,” Emma says, her face scrunching uneasily.

“Swan,” Killian uses his own hand to part hers from her face. “Hey,”

“What?”

“The 21st of the tenth month,”

“Uh?” She frowns immediately, looking at him as though he’s grown a couple extra heads.

Killian smiles at her softly, and shrugs. “You wished to know my birthday, that’s it love,”

“Oh,” Emma blinks slowly, processing still. She twists her lips, and looks at him with a definite pout on her lips. “I, I…uh, that’s, that’s just before mine,”

“Aye,” he says, and she’s suddenly feeling ten times worse.

“Ugh!” She groans, trying to cover her face again, but this time Killian doesn’t let her.

He cups her cheek, and meets her eyes lovingly.

Emma has to swallow hard the lump that formed in her throat. He’s smiling softly at her, and as mad as she still is at herself, there is not even an inch of her that is mad at him. “I’m really so sorry about today, Killian…I was,” she sighs, shrugging. “Childish…” She says, sighing again, and looking away from him slightly.

He doesn’t agree though. “All you did was, well Swan, care —about me I must say,” he can’t help frown a little as he says those words though; it will never sit right with him that his Swan was upset because of him. Ever.

Still, “You mustn’t apologize for that to me, love…”

Emma nods at his reassurance, but she’s still feeling all shades of immature and childish about this all. Also, guilty. Around her birthday last year, he had been so…sweet, and made her feel so special, loved, and, treasured. Now it felt like an ice bucket of guilt thrown on her head at the knowledge that they should have been celebrating him as well that week. Oh, she sucked. “Your birthday’s just before mine,”

“Aye,” Killian agrees simply. He looks down then, where his hand has started stroking the side of her waist —that very sweet spot where her shirt ends, and right before her pants start. Killian’s still holding her in place in his lap and the soft caresses are there without him having a say. He does it out of habit really, that need to always run his fingertips on every bit of exposed skin he can find. “You recall what we did that day love?”

Emma looks at him, pointedly staring at the sea of blue of his eyes, thinking. She remembers doing quite a few things those few days around and on her birthday. The day before however…

A soft smile makes its way slowly to her face, and suddenly the weight of guilt on her shoulders doesn’t feel so heavy. “Sail?”

Killian’s smile immediately matches her soft one, and he nods. He’s so close to declare victory he can’t barely contain it. That spark in Emma’s eyes he’s missed all day almost all the way back now, as their eyes are immoveable from one another’s. He nods again at her. “All day,” he reminds her. “It was quite the day, Swan —the best.”

His smile is happy, and it warms her heart in more ways than she can understand. She smiles at him playfully. “I thought we did that because of _my_ birthday,”

“Aye, we did,” his face is soft and he’s smiling, but his tone is serious; that day was all about _her_ —about seeing that glimmer of joy in her eyes as little by little she too is becoming a master of the Jolly Roger. It was about watching her fight sleep at sunset, when it was just them, departed from everything and everyone, just them, existing but at the same time not. It was about the miles of blue ocean, and her soft sleepy smile when he sat beside her and whispered a happy birthday wish to her ear.

It was about her. “You feel better now, love?” He asks, voice hopeful and eyes playful.

Emma nods. “Yeah,” she answers simply. She smirks slightly then, not too subtly she starts to inch her way closer and closer to Killian, determined to start kissing him already come hell or high water.

Luckily for her, the last thing in her pirate’s mind right now is complaining.

Emma starts innocent though, lightly brushing her lips to the light creases in the skin next to his eyes, playfully kissing the tip of his nose before moving to his cheeks, and then sinking ever so slightly to brush soft sweet kisses to his neck.

Killian’s eyes are closed; his head thrown back as Emma’s hands and kisses travel down his face and neck so painfully slow.

“This year,” she whispers eventually, moving back up a little closer to his ear. She continues to kiss every little bit of him she can find, but also continues to talk to him. A shaky sigh escapes him, and she smiles against him. “You,” she pauses, hands stroking his face with butterfly soft touches. “Are getting a cake,” she says, her whispering voice so close to his ear. “And drinks, and…people —your family…” She adds, not resisting the temptation, and drooping sloppy sweet kisses at the corners of his mouth. “And me,” she adds, and can’t help grinning when his own lips curl up at those words. Emma tilts her head watching him for a beat; she just watches him, his eyes closed, silly smile, and he’s…well, so perfect. Perfect in every way.

Perfect for her. She brushes her lips once more against his cheeks, watching him swallow hard out of the corner of her eyes. She closes her own and sighs. “I love you so much,” she promises, ignoring with all her might the hot prickling in her eyes that starts. Tears aren’t far behind, she knows, but she doesn’t want to cry —she really doesn’t. “You make me so happy, so…” She sighs, shakily, and slowly Killian opens his eyes. Immediately, his eyebrows knit together with worry at the sight of her misty eyes. Emma smiles and shakes her head at him. “You are gonna let me try and make you just as happy, too.”

Killian smiles softly at that; the pads of his thumb wiping at the tears that aren’t getting a chance to make its way down her face completely. “You do,” he promises simply, his voice serious and honest.

Emma waits a beat, watching him again, his fingertips still stroking her face as she did the same to the skin on his neck, and chest. “I love you,”

“Aye,” Killian nods. “I love you, too, Emma,”

The way he says her name does it, and she suddenly can’t wait anymore, tightly griping his shoulders with her hands and pushing him back on the bed. He wiggles those freaking eyebrows of his when their eyes meet, and she can’t stop the bubble of laughter that escapes. “My late birthday present to you, Captain,” she says, fighting back laughter. “If you will,”

He grins up at her, eyes twinkling. Killian inhales in deeply and lets it out slowly before all too smugly crossing his arms behind his head. “You shall get on with it then, my Princess. You have many the months to make up for,”

“You cocky bastard,” she mutters, but there’s not a fiber of her body that isn’t physically aching for him right now. Emma shakes her head at him disapprovingly, ignoring the ever so perfect way he’s pressed against her. She’s just barely hovering above him, eyes steady on his, daring him to kiss her first. He doesn’t, not for the first few seconds anyway, so she watches him.

Watches him looking up at her with desire and lust, and so much fucking love she doesn’t know what to do. She watches him for maybe a minute. She’s biting her lip when he uses just the tip of his tongue to lick his upper lip, and… _fuck_. Finally, Emma can’t just take it anymore. She lowers enough to kiss his mouth at last —desperate, hungry kisses. Killian reacts in seconds, instants, and before she knows it, he’s flipped her around, and her back is to the bed. She gasps, eyes opening suddenly, meeting those piercing blues of his. She’s panting slightly, and for a moment there, he’s not moving, and she’s growing impatient, but then Killian’s look softens.

Emma relaxes ever so slightly, and lets out a few short breaths.

“Thank you,” he says in the end, voice soft and loving before he ducks his head, kissing her once again. “And you,” he whispers, pulling back from her mouth slightly. “Make me happy —the happiest, Swan. Know that,”

She’s overwhelmed —no way around that; by him, by her freaking love for him, by  _his_  love for her, but she still manages to nod. “You too,”

“Aye…” Killian smiles, her words always music to his ears. “Now…” He says, hungrily looking at her.

Emma rolls her eyes, but she’s being a hypocrite and she knows it. “Yes please,” she teases with a smirk he matches in no time. She wants to play? Well, he _is_ an expert.

Seeing her upset is never going to be something Killian can just accept, but making her happy? Ah, well, that part of the job is the most rewarding one he’s sure.

“My bloody pleasure, Swan…”

 


End file.
